BANJO TALKS 





Class r_^ 






COPYRIGHT DEPOSrr. 



BANJO TALKS 




We-all drinks de sweet juice down 
F'um de cup so green an* roua 



BANJO TALKS 



By 
ANNE VIRGINIA CULBERTSON 

Author of 

At the Big House 

Lays of a Wandering Minstrel 



Illustrated from Photographs by 
MARY MORGAN KEIPP 
& HEUSTIS PRATT COOK 



INDIANAPOLIS 

THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 



Copyright igo$ 
The Bobbs-Merrill Company 



October 



im) Oopies tfeoavnn 
SEP Si 1905 

goPY 0. 



T 



19 f 



PRESS OF 

BRAUNWORTH & CO. 

BOOKBINDERS AND PRINTERS 

BROOKLYN, N. Y. 



CONTENTS 



PAGE 

Wen DE Banjer Talks . i 

De Gal wid de Cryin' Shoes 6 

De Wood-Hants . 8 

"Ol' Lynchburg Town" 12 

Harvest Song 16 

Miss Sally-Gal 20 

With the Spinning Lesson . ... . . .22 

LiNDY, Come Erlong 26 

De Stum'lin'-Block 28 

Knockin' de 'Rang-a-Tang 30 

Comin' Thu . 34 

A Toast . . 36 

Plowin' Time 38 

'Pen'ence 43 

Listening to the Accordion . o .... 47 

De Song er de 'Skeeter ....... 51 

Go Lightly, Gal 53 

Jes' Lookin' On 56 

Quit dat Playin' 'Possum ....... 61 

Chris'mas Comin' 63 

The Turkey-Dream 66 

Sunday Fishin' 71 

My Li'l Gal Done Got a Beau -73 



PAGE 

Whar DEM Sinful Apples Grow 79 

Buck-Steer 82 

My Chillen's Pictyah c . 87 

The Conjure-Doctor . . . * . . . .90 

When the Crop's Laid By . . . . . -95 

Wen I Sees a Yaller Gal ....... 98 

Tell 'em Howdy .., = ..... 102 

Lay Low, Mister Turkey .... .. 105 

Answering the Mocking-Bird ...... 107 

Gittin' Under Power . . . . . . . .112 

Skeesicks . 117 

Quit Yo' Worryin' . . . . . . . . .122 

Ol'^ Mister Gray-Moss . . . 124 

Totin' Mommer's Baby 128 

In the Melon-Patch 131 

When We Hear the Organ Down the Street . ' 136 

Calling the Cows ^138 

In Sorghum Time • . , . . . . . » 143 

Mom's a Washer-Lady , 147 

De Inch-Wu'm an' de Hopper-Grass . . . o 152 

Jes A-Studyin' ..... o ... 155 

Miss Jinny 160 

De Tukkey-Tail Fan . . . . . .165 

Li'l Sistaii .......... 168 



ILLUSTRATIONS 

/ 

'*We-all drinks de sweet juice down frontispiece 

F'um de cup so green an' roun' " Mary Morgan Keipp 

PAGE 

"Wen de banjer talks" Heustis Pratt Cook 3 ^ 

"Dey better be good" Mary Morgan Keipp 9 ^ 

"Oh ! de cradle hit goes swingin' " Mary Morgan Keipp 17 

"Dar's nuttin' lak de ol'-time ways" Mary Morgan Keipp 23 

"Dough de cabin mighty small, 

Room fer ev'y comer" Heustis Pratt Cook 31 - 

"Dat's a team, I tell you now!" Heustis Pratt Cook 39. 

"I wanster play de 'corjum, too" Mary Morgan Keipp 49 , 

•'Deyain'hadde raisin' dat I done got" Heustis Pratt Cook 57 

"Mandy's in a tukkey-dream" Mary Morgan Keipp 67/ 

"Or 'ooman, we's a-gittin' on" Heustis Pratt Cook 75 , 

"Wen I goes ter town in my li'l ox-kyart" 

Heustis Pratt Cook 83 ' 

"She'sacunjer-doctah,she is fersho'" Mary Morgan Keipp 91, 

"I gits my eyes all fixed fer her, 

My mouf begins ter laff " Heustis Pratt Cook 99 

"I whustles, too, bekase I'se gay" Mary Morgan Keipp 109 

"De sma'tes' li'l dog, suh" Mary Morgan Keipp 119 

"We loads ow' kyart an' we meks fer town" 

Heustis Pratt Cook 125 - 



"Dar's a milyun-patch whar grows 
Jes' de bestes' fruit we knows" 



Mary Morgan Keipp 
Mary Morgan Keipp 



133 
139 

149 

157 

161 
"Teckholtmy han' an'doanyoufear" Mary Morgan Keipp 169 



''Hit's time I slip up to de bars" 

"Golly! but hit's lonesome 
Wen yo' maw ain' home !" 

*'Jes' a-studyin' all de day" 

"An' den I riz up, fer I seem ter see 

Dat 'uz de wu'k de Lawd cut out fer me!" 

Heustis Pratt Cook 



Heustis Pratt Cook 
Heustis Pratt Cook 



For the privilege of reprinting some 
of these verses, acknow^ledgment 
is due the courtesy of the editors of 
Life, Truth, Pearson's Magazine 
Dixie, Outing and other publications 



BANJO TALKS 



WEN DE BANJER TALKS 

Doan' talk erbout yo' singin', 

Dat's well enuff sometimes 
Wen de singer's got some git-up 

An' de wu'ds an' music chimes, 
But I ru'rr year de banjer 

Dan ter listen at de rhymes. 

Oh, my soul gits up an' humps husse'f 

An' goes outside an' walks, 
Wen a picker gits ter pickin' 
An'de 

banjer 
talks ! 



W EN DE BANJER TALKS 

Wen banjer git ter talkin' 

You better hoF yo' tongue, 
Hit mek you think youse gre't an' gran' 

An' rich an' strong an' young, 
An' ev'ything whar scrumpshus 

Right at yo' feet is flung. 

Oh, my soul gits up an' humps husse'f 

An' goes outside an' walks, 
Wen a picker gits ter pickin' 
An' de 

banjer 
talks ! 

"You darkies mus' be happy," 

Dat w'at de banjer say, 
"Dey's happiness a-plenty 

AH strowed erlong de way, 
But you better be a-grabbin' 

Fer you ain' got long ter stay." 

Oh, my soul gits up an' humps husse'f 

An' goes outside an' walks. 
Wen a picker gits ter pickin' 
An'de 

banjer 
talks ! 







W:m 



,i^' 



L. .,„ 




Wen de baiijei talks 



W EN DE BANJER TALKS 

Doan' talk erbout de fiddle, 

De squeaky li'l thing, 
Er mouf-harp er meecorjum, 

Er harp wid seben string, 
De banjer beats creation, 

De banjer is de king! 

Oh, my soul gits up an' humps husse'f 

An' goes outside an' walks, 
Wen a picker gits ter pickin' 
An' de 
banjer 
talks ! 



DE GAL WID DE CRYIN' SHOES 

Dey's li'l gal I knows right well, 

(Hey-o, Miss Rhody,) 
But who she is I ain' gwine tell, 

(Hey-o, Miss Rhody,) 
Wen Sunday comes she dress so fine 
I scarcely knows dat gal er mine ; 
She's spick an' span, de gal I choose, 
F'um her haid to her bran' new cryin' shoes, 
De neat li'l gal^ 
De sweet h'l gal, 
De gal wid de cryin' shoes. 



DE GAL WID DE CRYIN SHOES 

Oh, she's de gal whar putts on style 

(Hey-o, Miss Rhody,) 
Wen she goes switchin' up de aisle, 

(Hey-o, Miss Rhody,) 
De haids all turn ter year dat soun', — 
She's turnt dis haid er mine clean roun', 
My heart keeps thumpin' out de news 
*'Yer come de li'l gal wid de cryin' shoes. 
De neat li'l gal^ 
De sweet li'l gal, 
De gal wid de cryin' shoes." 

She 'tend lak she doan' know I'se dere, 

(Hey-o, Miss Rhody,) 
An' ef I wuz, dat she ain' kyare, 

(Hey-o, Miss Rhody,) 
She toss her haid ez she go by. 
But sump'n speakin' in her eye, — 
I know w'at 'tis, but I doan' choose 
Ter tell on de gal wid de cryin' shoes, 
De neat li'l gal, 
De sweet H'l gal, 
De gal wid de cryin' shoes. 



DE WOOD-HANTS 

Wen de moon scrouch down behime de hill 
An' de dark foF roun' you clost an' still, 
Keep outer de wood 
Ef you know w'at's good, 
Fer dey's things in dar dat nuver show 
Twel de dark come on an' de daylight go, 
An' dey races an' runs, an' dey flar's an' flants, 
An' de name er dem creeturs is Hants, chile, Hants ! 

Wen de squinch-owl hootin' roun' de place 
An' de bats fly low an' slap yo' face. 
Keep outer de wood 
Ef you know w'at's good, 
Fer de li'l warm gus'es thu de trees, 
An' de li'l col' ones whar mek you freeze, 
Is de bref er dem creeturs whar flar's an' flants. 
An' de name w'at we calls 'em is Hants, chile, Hants! 

8 




Dey better be good 



w 



.. ^- 



DE WOOD-HANTS 

Wen you see lights trab'Iin' up an' down 
Widout no pusson ter kyar' dem roun', 
Keep outer de wood 
Ef you know w'at's good ! 
Poller dem things an' dey 'stroy you, sho', 
You kain't kotch up an' you go an' go, 
An' las' dey swamps you, an' flar's an' flants. 
An' de name er dem creeturs is hants, chile, Hants! 

Wen biggitty chillen, 'long to'des night, 
Git cross an' norty an' doan' do right, 

Dey better be good 

An' 'member de wood, 
Fer dey's things in dar dat nuver show 
'Twel de dark come on an' de daylight go. 
An' dey races an' runs an' dey flar's an' flants. 
An' dey hone fer bad chillen, dey does, dem hants! 



II 



"OL' LYNCHBURG TOWN" 

AcE^ is you pickin' de banjer? ShoM 
No 'spectable darky does dat no mo'. 

De banjer-pickin', de or-time chunes 
Is all gin up ter de no-kyoun' coons. 

Lakwise de shuffle, de pidjum-wing 
Back-step an' all dat sawt er thing. 

De neares' we gits ter de ol'-time ways 
Is w'en ow' lodge have ''tu'n-out" days. 

Den we putts ow' begalium on so fine, 
An' goes perawderin' all in line. 

Wile bre'ren an' sisters bofe is dress' 
Up pow'ful fine in dey Sunday bes'. 

12 



De cap'n he haids us wid swo'd in han', 
Den comes de waltzer, de banner an' ban'. 

An' w'en de music begins ter soun' 

We walks 'gin de lodge f um New Hopes town, 

Wile ow' cap'n he drills us all so fine 
An' de waltzer snakes in an' out de line. 

Ain' you nuver seed two lodges walk 
'Gin one nu'rr ? Sho' ! how you talk ! 

Hit's de fines' sight in all dis worl', 
Hit mek yo' haid spin roun' an' whu'l, 

Wen de music plays an' de members dey 
Gits ter prancin' up an' down dis-a-way. 

Wen dey pass one nu'rr bofe lodges shout 
Fer ter prove which got de bes' ''tu'n-out." 

We walked 'gin de "Risin' Star" las' week, 
We made dem darkies look mighty meek ! 

Wen we pass deir 'cession we shout so loud 
You cudden year one er de urr crowd. 



13 



"American Doves of P'otection/' dat 
De name er de lodge whar I b'longs at. 

Brer Ace, I wish dat yo' wife 'ud jine, 
Wen she dies we burry her mighty fine. — 

You better stop pickin' dat banjer, boss, 
Er yo' nuver-dyin' soul be los' ! 

Wat chune you strike up? OT Lynchburg Town! 
Oh, mussy ! my footses is gwine erroun' ! 

O Lawd ! doan' you let dat darky play, 
Er I lose salvation dis ve'y day. 

O Lawd ! Dou knowes' my weakes' p'int, 
Dou sees de limberness uv each j 'int ! 

Dou knowes' dat chune jes' natch'ly boun' 
Ter mek my footses go roun' an' roun' ! 

De Lawd done 'spised my humble prayer. 
So dis or darky ain' gwineter care ! 

Play, man, play hit, dat Lynchburg Toztm! 
Tse done struck inter de oV hoe-down! 



14 



Faster, faster, I tells you play, 
I ain' care who-all come dis way ! 

Ef de preacher an' all de members, too, 
Wuz ter come erlong Fd darnse dis thu! 

Ki, dar ! faster ! Done los' my crown 

Fer de sakes er darnsin' Of Lynchburg Town! 



HARVEST SONG 

Sky's mighty blue, mighty blue, mighty blue. 
Sun's mighty hot, mighty hot, thu an' thu, 
But a li'l breeze comes siftin' roun'. 

Comes siftin' ev'ywhar, 

De li'l breeze dat's whusp'rin' in 

De pine-trees over dar. 

Oh ! de cradle hit goes swingin', 
De yaller oats a-flingin', 
Wile my song goes ringin', ringin' 
'Gins' de pine-trees over dar. 

i6 




oil' 'Ic « I. idle liil ,:4<)cs swiii-m' 



HARVEST SONG 

Bird's mighty sweet, mighty sweet, mighty sweet, 
Sounds mighty clost, mighty clost, near my feet ; 
Neenter try ter toll me off, 
ril let yo' nes' alone ; 
I'se got a li'l fambly nes' 

An' young uns uv my own. 

Oh ! de cradle hit goes swinging 
De yaller oats a-flingin'. 
Wile my song goes ringin', ringin' 
To'des de li'l nes' I own. 

Arm's mighty strong, mighty strong, mighty strong, 
Sweep's mighty long, mighty long, mighty long, 
Nuver tire f 'um mawn 'twel night, 

I keeps up wid de bes', 
Bekase dese arms is wu'kkin' fer 
De fambly in de nes'. 

* Oh ! de cradle hit goes swingin', 
De yaller oats a-flingin', 
Wile my song goes ringin', ringin', 
To'des de fambly in de nes'. 



19 



MISS SALLY-GAL 

Sally-gal got de brightes' eye, 

She know dat well, she do, 
Sally-gal got a wais' — oh^ my ! 

Look lak hit bre'k in two. 
Yas^ Sally-gal roll dem eyes so brown. 

But Fse de las' she see. 
An' ef dat wais' wuz one mile roun' 

Be all de same ter me. 

Oh, Miss Sally-gal, doan' you year me cry, 
Doan' you year me mo'nin', an' doan' you year me sigh? 
Oh, come erlong, Miss Sally-gal, an' wipe my weepin' eye. 
Got such mis'ry uv de heart I'se 'feard I gwineter die. 



20 



MISS SALLY-GAL 

Sally-gal she kin hoe de cawn, 

Goes singin' down de row, 
Beat mos' men, ez sho' 'z yo' bawn, 

A-han'lin' uv de hoe. 
But w'en across de fiel' I come, 

She stop her singin', sho', 
An' ef I ax ter he'p her some 

She tap me wid her hoe. 

Oh, Miss Sally-gal, doan' you year me cry, 
Doan' you year me mo'nin' an' doan' you year me sigh? 
Oh, come erlong, Miss Sally-gal, an' wipe my weepin' eye, 
Got such mis'ry uv de heart I'se 'feard I gwineter die. 

Sally-gal, you done treat me so, 

My heart plum' bus' in two, 
Kain't hang roun' dis place no mo', 

I says far'well ter you. 
Doan' weep w'en I is daid an' gone, 

Doan' mo'n an' call me back — 
Dat gal she cryin' sho' 'z yo' bawn ! 

Lawd ! how dese wimmins ac' ! 

Oh, Miss Sally-gal, please ma'am, doan' you cry^ 
Bus's my heart clean open ter year you mo'n an' sigh. 
Oh, come erlong^ li'l Sally-gal, an' Icmme wipe yo' eye, 
Got sech shoutin' in my heart I'se 'feard I gwineter (ho. 

21 



WITH THE SPINNING LESSON 

Dar's nuttin' lak de ol'-time ways, 
I tell you dem ol' days wuz days! 
Wen gals wuz larnt ter do de spinnin' 
Uv cotton-yarn an' wool an' linen, 
An' any day you'd come down yer 
You'd year de wheels jes' buzz an' burr, 
F'um sun-up 'twel de dark'z beginnin'. 

Dem times wuz busy times, I 'clar', 
'Kase all we had ter eat an' wear 

Wuz made right yer on dis plantation, 

Hit sut'n'y jes' beat all creation! 

We spinned an' dyed an' weabed an' knit. 
An' tu'ned out gyarmints dat wuz fit 

Per any pusson in dis nation. 

22 




Dar s iiutiin' lak de ol tiine ways 



WITH THE SPINNING LESSON 

De linsey-woolsey fer ow' dress, 
De cas'net clof fer Marster's bes', 
De cotton-clof, de linen beddin', 
Silk stockin's fer young Miss's weddin', 
An' shoes dat 'z binded in an' out, 
All dem we made right good an' stout, 
Dem times dat I wuz bawned an' bred in. 

De weabin'-house wuz 'crost de way, 
Two looms wuz runnin' all de day, 

Dey had good ban's at shuttle-th'owin'. 

An' any sort er pattern goin', 

De ''huckle-back," de ''snow-drap spot," 
'Tine-apple," 'Tennessee bow-knot," 

Dey'd run hit ofif befo' you'z knowin'. 

I wish dem times 'ud come onct mo', 
Dese days de gals jes' come an' go 
A-spo'tin' sto'-cloes, gigglin', grinnin'^ 
I tells you w'at, dey ain' beginnin' 
Ter do lak we-all in de pas', 
' Wen wu'k come fus' an' play come las' 
An' gals all tuck a tu'n at spinnin'. 



LINDY, COME ERLONG 
(plantation serenade) 

Wen de sun roll in an' de moon roll out 
An' de li'l yaller stars git sprinkl't all erbout, 
Den I listens fer my honey an' I calls her an' I shout, 
*'0 Lindy, Lindy, Lindy, O my Lindy ! 
O Lindy, come erlong 
An' listen at my song ; 
De mockin'-bu'd is singin' ter his honey, 
Come, lemme sing ter you 
An' tell you, tell you true 
Dat I loves you mo' dan heaps er silver money." 

26 



LINDY, COME ERLONG 

Wen de win' blow sof an' de leaves keep still, 
Listenin' in de darkness ter de lonesome whippo'will, 
Den I tecks my banjer wid me an' I calls her down de hill, 
''O Lindy, Lindy, Lindy, O my Lindy! 
O Lindy, come erlong 
An' listen at my song ; 
De whippo'will is pinin' fer his honey, 
An' so I pines fer you, 
Fer I tells you, tells you true 
Dat I loves you mo' dan heaps er silver money." 

Wen de tree-toads call an' de crickits sing 
An' de katydids is 'sputin' 'bout some li'l no-kyoun' thing. 
Den I calls her an' I calls her, 'twel I mek de pine-woods 
ring, 

"O Lindy, Lindy, Lindy, O my Lindy ! 
O Lindy, come erlong 
An' listen at my song ; 
De katydid is 'sputin' wid his honey. 
Come, lemme 'spute wid you 
'Bout ef I doan' er do 
Love you better dan a heap er silver money." 



27 



DE STUiArLIN'-BLOCK 

You chillen done kotched in de ac', f er sho' ! 
You mus'n' hook milyuns dis way no mo', 
Hifs a monst'ous sin! Lemme jes' set down 
An' tell how de milyun wuz fustes' foun', — 
Ez long'z hit's dar you kin gimme dat hafif^ — 
I boun' you de story gwine stop dat laff ! 

De debil went studyin' 'long one day, 
''Mister Darky bin gittin' too good/' he say, 
''Done temp' him in vain wid a nice ham-hock, 
Mus' fin' some new kind er stum'lin'-block." 
So he laid a ripe milyun acrost de paff. 
An' hid in de bushes an' lafif an' laff. 



28 



DE STUM LIN -BLOCK 

De darky ain' notussin' whar he goes 
'Twel de milyun-vine done tankle his toes, 
Den he fall right down wid a monst'ous shock 
An' bus' Mister Debil's new stum'lin'-block. 
De debil lay low at de side er de paff 
An' he ain' say nuttin', jes' laff an' laff. 

De darky he ses ter hisse'f, ''My law ! 
Yer's de pooties' sight dat uver I saw !" 
He et hit all ter de plum' green rin', 
Den up riz de debil an' ses, ''Youse mine !" 
Wid tail a-switchin' an' lashin' de paff. 
Wiles he grin an' he grin an' he laff an' laff. 

Ses de darky, ''Youse debilish mean, I'se yeard, 
But I nuver half b'lieve hit, upun my wu'd^ 
Dis look mos' too mean, suh, eben fer you, 
'Kase you knows dat milyun wuz bus' in two." 
Den de debil flewed off wid a howl er wraff 
An' de darky he sot an' he laff an' laff. 

Sence den, no darky wuz uver known 
Ter teck a milyun whar wan't his own 
Widout he claim, lak de one at fus'. 
He tucken de milyun be kase hit bus\; 
An' de debil slinks 'long in de darky's paff. 
An' he ain' say nuttin', jes' laff an' laff. 
29 



KNOCKIN' DE 'RANG-A-TANG 

Summertime do ve'y well, 

I ain't gwineter 'spute hit, 
Winter dat's my fav'ite spell, 

Suits me an' I suit hit. 
Plowin's over, hoein's done, 
Chris'mus brings us lots er fun, 
Den we meets up ev'y one, 
A happy, singin', laffin' gang, 
An' den we knocks de 'rang-a-tang, 
We knocks de 'rang-a-tang. 

30 




Dollish (Ic cabin niinlity siiuill, 
Room fcr cv'v coim-r 



KNOCKIN DE RANG-A-TANG 

Dough de cabin mighty small, 

Room fer ev'y comer^ 
Dar we darnses one an' all, 

Lawdy ! beats de summer ! 
Lightwood fire blazin' bright 
Meks de place all warm an' light, 
Darkies darnse wid all dey might, 
A happy, singin', laffin' gang, 
Hit's den we knocks de 'rang-a-tang. 

We knocks de 'rang-a-tang. 

Lif yo' right foot, lif yo' lef, 
Plant yo' heels down fairly, 
Doan' you stop ter git yo' bref, 

Knock de time, suh^ squarely ! 
Banjer talkin', fiddle, too. 
Supper waitin' w'en youse thu, 
I doan' wan' no mo', does you ? 
Come jine dis singin', laffin' gang, 
An' he'p us knock de 'rang-a-tang, 
He'p knock de 'rang-a-tang. 



33 



COMIN' THU 

Yer's a sinner comin' thu, 
Crowd roun', bre'ren, sisters, too^ 
Sing wid all yo' might an' main, 
He'p de sinner out er pain. 
He's comin', comin' thu. 

He bin "seekin' " dis long time, 
He'p him cas' de foe behime, 
Clap yo' ban's an' sing an' shout, 
He'p him cas' de debil out, 

Le's wrassel him right thu. 

34 



COMIN THU 

Tu'rr side de Gate er Sin, 
Year him kickin' ter git in, 
Putt up prayers wid might an' main^ 
Dat he doesn' kick in vain, 
Y'all kin pray him thu. 

Heart a-bus'in' fer de right, 
Debil hoFin' to him tight. 
Year him swish dat forked tail^, 
See de sinner-man turn pale. 
Come on an' he'p him thu. 

Sinner hangin' 'bove de pit. 
By a hya'r strotch over hit, 
Debil hoi' one eend an' shake, 
Y'all kin see de sinner quake, 

Quick, he'p dis man come thu. 

Seize de ropes, now, ev'y man, 
He'p de gospel ship ter Ian', 
One long pull an' one gre't shout, 
Hallelu ! We got him out, 

De sinner done come thu ! 



35 



A TOAST 

Oh, Chris'mus, Chris'mus, dat's de time, 
Wen you year dem glasses chink an' chime. 
An' de boys dey drinks de toas'es down 
Ter all de pooty ladiz dat's in dis town. 
Sing hi, sing ho. 
Now doan' say no. 
You mus' drink ter de pooties' ladiz. 

Dis one he'll drink ter de gal whar fat. 
An' tu'rrs dey'll up an' laff at dat ; 
Dat one he'll drink ter de gal whar thin, 
Wid de hatchet face an' de p'inted chin ; 

Sing hi, sing ho. 

But he dunno 
Dat she ain' jes' de pooties' lady. 

36 



A TOAST 

Dis one he'll drink ter gal whar tall, 
Dat one '11 drink ter de gal whar small ; 
An' one '11 drink ter de gal whar kin'^ 
An' one ter de gal whar meks him min' ! 

Sing hi, sing ho, 

Each think he know 
Dat he drink ter de pooties' lady. 

Now I ain' sayin' no name a-tall 
Wen dey drinks ter dey ladiz gre't an' small, 
But I lif's my glass an' I drinks dis toas', 
*'Ter de li'l honey-gal w'at loves me de mos' !" 

Sing ho, sing hi, 

Now dat's jes' w'y 
I think she's de pooties' lady. 

But de gals so pleasin', shawt er tall, 
Dat I 'clar' we boun' ter toas' 'em all ! 
So fill yo' glasses, jes' one mo' roun', 
Ter all de pooty ladiz dat's in dis town. 

Sing hi, sing ho, 

Now doan' say no, 
You mus' drink ter de chawmerin' ladiz. 



37 



PLOWIN' TIME 

Winter goin' ! 
How I tell? 
See dem buds begin ter swell, 
Year dem birds a chu'pin' so, — 
An' you ax me how I know ? 

Willers greenin' 
By de run, 
Grass-blades soakin' up de sun, 
Warm smells risin' f'um de groun' 
Almos' lak dey mek a soun'. 

"Tu'n me over,'' 

So dey say, 

"Sun an' air, suh, dat's de way. 

Den you'll see all summer thu 

Jes' w'at I kin do fer you." 

38 



w ■ 



'"'^ 




PLOWIN TIME 

Hitch my oxes 
To de plow, 
Dat's a team, I tell you now ! 
Chillen follers wid me, too^, 
Wants ter do jes' w'at I do. 

Boy he sclutches 
On my whip, 
Gal she run 'long side an' trip 
Now an' den an' fall, but sho! 
Nuver lets my coat-tail go. 

Dis my ox-team, 

Dis my Ian', 

'Arnt hit all wid dish yer han' ; 

Meks a darky feel real sma't 

Gittin' sech a right good sta't. 

All de darkies, 
Ef dey would, 
Mought do lakwise, knows dey could. 
Dis de best thing in ow' reach, 
'Kase we kain't all teach an' preach. 



41 



PLOWIN TIME 

Gimme country, 
Gimme air, 
Fiel's all mois' an' warm an' bare 

Waitin' fer de crap uv cawn 
Wen de winter's up an' gone. 

Crow dis mawnin' 
Woked me soon, 
Cawin'^ jawin', sassy loon! 
He's one thief ! now ain' hit queer 
How he knows dat plantin's near ? 

Spring's a-comin' ! 
How I know? 
Ev'ything done tell me so. 
'Sides dat, sumpin say in me, 
''Spring's a-comin', yas sirree!' 



42 



TEN'ENCE 

He wuz de on'ies' boy I uver had, 

An' w'en he's bawned I felt dat proud an' glad 

Seem lak I cudden fin' no name a-tall 

Dat's good enuff my baby boy ter call. 

Now jes' 'bout den us darkies got de wu'd 

Dat Mister Linkum he done 'clar'd us free, — 

I shouted w'en dat j'yful news I yeard, 

''Bress Gawd, dis ain' a slave dat's bawn ter me ! 

I'se gwineter call dis chile, you year me say, 

'Mancipation Proclaniation Innepen'ence Day !" 



43 



PEN ENCE 

My man sezee : "Want smuzzer dat young chile, 
Dat sech a name ez dat you go an' pile 
On top er him? I'se 'feard you stunt he growt' 
By ginin' him dat haivy name ter tote/' 
S'l, "See dat baby kick an' year him crow! 
A chile dat smart is sho' ter grow lak fun, 
An' I'se jes' boun' dat he shell rightly know 
De gre't deed Mister Linkum fer him done : 
Darfo' I calls him, ez befo' I say, 
'Mancipation Proclamation Innepen'ence Day." 

I ain' bin saw'y dat I name him so. 

"Jaw-crackin' " some folks called hit, but you know 

Fer shawt we called him 'Pen'ence all de week, 

'Cept Sundays. You'd jes' laff ter year him speak 

Wen dress up in he li'l trowserloons 

An' trottin' by ter meetin' 'long'wid me^ 

We'd meet one dese yer 'pawtant yaller coons, 

Dey'd ax, "W'at name yo' li'l boy mought be?" 

He'd dror hisse'f up proud ez sin an' say, 

"I'se 'Mancipation Proclamation Innepen'ence Day." 



44 



PEN ENCE 

But somehow " 'Pen'ence" seem ter suit dat chile. 

He alluz done my biddin' wid a smile, 

An' nuver toF no whoppin' lies a-tall, 

Dough now an' den he'd tell one dese yer small 

Comfrabercashuns dat dey calls white lies, — 

Atter de white folks, wudden be suppriz' — 

An' seein' him dat stiddy-lak an' true, 

We come ter place ow' 'pen'ence on dat boy, 

So 'Pen'ence wuz he name, 'cept w'en he'd do 

Sump'n er u'rr dat 'ud kind er 'noy, — 

De bes' er chillen does dat, — den I'd say 

''You! 'Mancipation Proclamation Innepen'ence Day!" 

My man he died^ an' ev'ything went wrong, 
I had hard wu'k sometimes ter git erlong. 
But bringed my chile up 'spectable, an' he 
W'en he wuz growed tuck fus' class kyare er me. 
He wuz de po'ter on a baid-room kyar. 
One dese wid baids hid som'ers over haid 
Raidy ter spring up on de slightes' jar 
At night, an' smash you flat, I've yeard hit said. 
S'l, ''Doan' spec' yo' maw ter ride dat-a-way, 
'Mancipation Proclamation Innepen'ence Day !" 



45 



PEN ENCE 

One time he train wuz in a axerdent, 

De kyars kotched fire an' my boy he went 

Back in he kyar w'en all de folks wuz gone, 

Bekase he yeard a lady kyar'yin' on 

An' cryin' "Oh, my baby's lef ! Oh, do 

Somebody, go an' git my baby out !" 

He broke a pane an' passed de baby thu, 

''De li'l baby's safe !" dey yeard him shout^ 

An' dem wuz de las' wu'ds dat he uver say, 

My 'Mancipation Proclamation Innepen'ence Day ! 

O 'Pen'ence ! Ten'ence ! onlies' boy I uver had ! 
Dat nuver made me anything but glad 
An' happy w'ile you lived on top dis yearf 
Sence dat proud mawnin' dat I gin you birf ! 
You dat I thought gwine be my stay an' prop ! 
How could you go on an' leave me yer alone ? 
O Lawd, dear Lawd, how long I gotter stop 
Widout no one ter place my 'pen'ence on? — 
An' yit, O 'Pen'ence, year yo' po' ol' mammy cry. 
You done jes' right ! you cudden let dat baby die ! 



46 



LISTENING TO THE ACCORDION 

Listen at de 'corjum, 'corjum, 'corjum! 
Hit boun' ter mek yo' footses go 
No marter ef you wants er no, 
Yo' footses somehow turns a-loose, 
I'se seed chu'ch-members ac' de goose, 
Hit meks us chillen late f'um school 
An' mommer say we play de fool 
'Bout de 'corjum, 'corjum, 'corjum. 

47 



LISTEXIXG TO THE ACCORDION 

Listen at de 'corjum, 'corjum, 'corjum! 
I wanster play de 'corjum, too, 
Lak Billy Johnny Simpson do, 
Jes' see de way he fingers fly 
Acrost dem shiny keys, oh my! 
He arms wu'k in an' out jes' so, 
An' how he do dat I dunno 

Wid de 'corjum, 'corjum, 'corjum. 

Listen at de 'corjum, 'corjum, 'corjum! 
One minute she swell out lak dat, 
Nex' news you know she gone plum' flat, 
Dat how dey squeege de music out. 
Hit's handy fer ter teck erbout, 
A li'l box dat's flat an' thin 
Ontwel hit gits fill'-up wid win', 
Dat's de 'corjum, 'corjum, 'corjum. 

I wants me a 'corjum, 'corjum, 'corjum! 
I got a li'l savin'-bank. 
Kin year de money clink an' clank, 
I spec' I done save mos' a dime ! 
I gwineter teck hit all some time 
An' buy a 'corjum, I'arn ter play. 
An' beat dat Billy John some day 
On de 'corjum, 'corjum, 'corjum. 

48 



DE SONG ER DE 'SKEETER 

Li'l 'skeeter went out ter serenade, 

(M-hm) 
He skipped thu de air w'ile he sung an' he played, 

(M-hm) 
He played on his giiitt^r, de sassy li'l critter, 
An' dish yer de song w'at he made : 
"Fse champ'n hght-weight uv dis town, 

(M-hm) 
I dror's blood de fustes' roun', 

(M-hm) 
I doesn' go by de rules er fightin'. 
Whips out my raazor an' den I Hghts in 
An' gits dar wid bofe footses ev'y time." 



SI 



DE SONG ER DE SKEETER 

Li'l 'skeeter he spied Miss Susy's lip, 

(M-hm) 
He say, "Fse 'bleeged fer ter have a sip ;" 

(M-hm) 
He up an' he bit her, she slap at de critter, 
An' 'skeeter sung out ez he skip : 
''Oh^ I'se de masher uv dis town, 

(M-hm) 
I follers de ladiz roun' an' roun', 

(M-hm) 
Oh, I is a man er de fines' tas'e, suh. 
Kiss all de pooties' gals in de place, suh. 
An' gits dar wid bofe footses ev'y time." 

Sez I, ''No gemman 'ud steal a kiss, 

(Huh-uh) 
I 'oon widout you sesso, miss," 

(Huh-uh) 
Miss Susy she titter, an' tell me ter quit her, 
An' 'skeeter sung out ter me dis^ 
''Oh, youse de big fool uv dis town. 

You is. 
All de gals gwine tu'n you down, 

Dey is, 
De man whar ax fer 'em doan' git kisses, 
De man whar tecks 'em he nuver misses. 
He gits dar wid bofe footses ev'y time." 
52 



GO LIGHTLY, GAL 
(the cake-walk) 

SwEETEs' li'l honey in all dis Ian', 
Come erlong yer an' gimme yo' han', 

Go lightly, gal, go lightly ! 
Cawn all shucked an' de barn flo' clear, 
Come erlong, come erlong, come erlong, my dear, 

Go lightly, gal, go lightly ! 

Fiddles dey callin' us high an' fine, 
''Time fer de darnsin', come an' jine," 

Go lightly, gal, go lightly ! 
My pooty li'l honey, but you is sweet ! 
An' hit's clap yo' ban's an' shake yo' feet. 

Go lightly, gal, go lightly ! 



53 



GO LIGHTLY, GAL 

Hit's cut yo' capers all down de line, 
Den mek yo' manners an' tiptoe fine, 

Go lightly, gal, go lightly ! 
Oh, hit's whu'll yo' pardners roun' an' roun', 
Twel you hyst dey feet clean off de groun', 

Go lightly, gal, go lightly ! 

Oh, hit's tu'n an' twis' all roun' de flo', 
Fling out yo' feet behime, befo', 

Go lightly, gal, go lightly ! 
Gre't Lan' o' Goshen ! but you is spry ! 
Kain't none er de urr gals spring so high, 

Go lightly, gal, go lightly ! 

Oh, roll yo' eyes an' wag yo' haid 

An' shake yo' bones twel you nigh most daid, 

Go lightly, gal, go lightly ! 
Doan' talk ter me 'bout gittin' yo' bref, 
Gwine darnse dis out ef hit cause my def ! 

Go lightly, gal, go lightly ! 



54 



GO LIGHTLY, GAL 

Um-humph ! done darnse all de urr folks down ! 
Skip erlong, honey, jes' one mo' roun' ! 

Go lightly, gal, go lightly ! 
Fiddles done played twel de strings all break ! 
Come erlong^ honey, jes' one mo' shake. 

Go lightly, gal, go lightly ! 

Now teck my arm an' perawd all roun', 

Sd dey see whar de sho'-nuff darnsers foun', 

Go lightly, gal, go lightly ! 
Den gimme yo' han' an' we quit dish yer. 
Come erlong, come erlong, come erlong, my dear. 

Go lightly, gal, go lightly ! 



55 



JES' LOOKIN^ ON 

I'sE got sech a mis'ry in my side 
Dat hit hu'ts ter walk an' hit hu'ts ter ride, 
An' hit hu'ts ter set an' hit hu'ts ter stan' 
An' hit hu'ts jes' ev'y las' way hit can. 
An' ez fer de mis'ry in my back, 
Nair a minute dat dat doan' rack. 
My laigs dey ache me so scan'lous bad 
I wish dey wuz wooden paigs I had. 
Dey ain' a bit er my flaish er bone 
Whar ain' got a mis'ry all hits own 
Wid li'l mean aches strowed in between, — 
Now dat's w'at de rheumatiz done mean. 



56 




Dcy ain hail dc raisin ilat 1 done i^oL 



JES LOOKIN ON 

I kain't see rightly widout my specs, 

Done fergitted mo' dan I recollec's^ 

An' my yearin' 's bad an' I'se ol' an' po', 

An' I ain' got no kinry lef no mo'. 

But I ain' fergitted my white-folks yit 

Ner de 'spectable raisin' dat I done git. 

Dey I'arnt me my manners, bowin' low 

An' scrapin' out wid my foot, jes' so, 

An' dey gin me 'ligious destruction, too. 

An' dey I'arn me 'bout ev'ything I knew. 

Some er dis wufless young cullud trash 

Dey calls me ''Uncle" an ac's real brash, 

Jes' laffin' behime my back lak sin, 

'Kase I bin a slave an' dey ain' bin. 

I ru'rr bin bonded my natchel days 

Dan ter ac' in sech no-kyount, trashy ways. 

I reckon hit's well we wuz all set free, 

I s'pose dat's de way folks wuz meant ter be. 

But I kain't see w'y dey's no manners lef 

Jes' 'kase dey happens ter own deyse'f. 

I dunno rightly how ol' I is. 

Hit mought be eighty^ I reckon 'tis, 

Yit I nuver gone now'ers, I tells you true. 

But I tucken my manners an' ))ree(lin\ loo. 



59 



JES LOOKIN ON 

Dem sassy young niggers, dey plum' disgrace 

De res' uv de 'spectable cullud race. 

Dey got dey books, dey kin read an' write. 

But dey dunno 'nough fer to be perlite. 

I kain't see how dey gwine git erlong. 

Hit seem lak sump'n have done gone wrong. 

I gits wo' out wid 'em, dat's de fac', 

But I orter mek 'lowance fer how dey ac', 

'Kase de times an' de doin's is change a lot, 

An' dey ain' had de raisin' dat I done got. 

Dar's nuttin' lef me but lookin' on 

Twel me an' de ol'-time ways is gone. 



60 



QUIT DAT PLAYIN' TOSSUM 

A LULLABY 

Quit dat playin' 'possum, 

I sees dem eyeleds peep! 
Spec's ter fool yo' mammy 
P'tendin' youse ersleep. 
Sma'tes' li'l baby dat uver drord a bref, 
Try ter fool he mammy, he gwine git sho'-nuff lef. 
'Possum, 'possum, 'possum mighty sly, 
'Possum, 'possum, I sees you blink dat eye. 
Bye-o, bye-o, baby, 

'Possum mighty sly, 
Bye-o, byc-o, baby, 
Byc-o, byc-o-bye. 

6i 



QUIT DAT PL A YIN POSSUM 

Quit dat playin' 'possum, 

You torn-down li'l chap, 
Gotter min' yo' mammy 
An' teck a li'l nap. 
Sweetes' li'l baby dat uver drord a bref, 
Mammy knowed her honey wuz gwineter 'have hisse'f. 
'Possum, 'possum, sleepin' mighty soun', 
'Possum, 'possum, gwineter lay him down. 
Bye-o, bye-o^ baby, 

Lay de 'possum low, 
Bye-o, bye-o. baby, 
Bye-o-bye, bye-o. 

Lawd! he jes' play 'possum. 
An' projeck wid me, sho' ! 
Dat's a trick ter mek me 
Set an' rock him mo'. 
Sma'tes' li'l baby dat uver drord a bref, 
Wanster stay wid mammy, he boun' he won' be lef . 
'Possum, 'possum, mammy love you true, 
'Possum, 'possum, yas indeed she do ! 
Bye-o, bye-o^ baby, 

Dough dis 'possum's sly. 
Mammy's gotter love him, 
Bye-o, bye-o-bye. 



CHRIS'MAS COMIN' 

Christmas hit's a-comin' ! 
Doan' you year me now ? 
White folks cuts no figger 
Dese times, 'side de nigger, 
Chris'mas made on puppus fer de darkies, anyhow^ 

Chris'mas hit's a-comin' ! 
No mo' wu'k a w'ile, 
Gwineter be dat lazy 
Drive de boss mos' crazy, 
Chris'mas-week, — no use a-tall ter hurry up dis chile. 

Chris'mas hit's a-comin' ! 
Den de fun begins, 
Pile de logs up higher, 
Nuttin' lak a fire, 
Darky pow'ful happy w'en he toas'in' uv he shins. 

C>3 



CHRIS MAS COMIN 

Chris'mas hit's a-comin' ! 
Be yer mighty soon, 
Retch de ol' gun down, den, 
Lemme chase erroun', den, 
Christmas won' be Chris'mas-time widout a tas'e er coon. 

Christmas hit's a-comin' ! 
Fotch de ol' jug out, 
Apple-jack ter fill hit, 
Hawg-meat in de skillet, 
Darky git so happy dat he hatter sing an' shout. 

Chris'mas hit's a-comin' ! 
Git up fo' hit's light. 
Fin' mos' folks a-nappin', 
'Fo' dey know w'at happen, 
Kotch dey presents, shoutin' "Chris'mas-gif " wid all my 
might. 

Chris'mas hit's a-comin' ! 
Li'l gal I know 
Thu de pine-woods yonner 
Gwine git all I squan'er 
On dese Chris'mas doin's, an' I wish 'twuz heap sight 
mo' ! 

64 



CHRIS MAS COMIN 

Christmas hit's a-comin' ! 
Rozzum up de bow ! 
Footses dat onsteady 
Dat Tse 'feard a'ready 
Gwineter lose de 'ligion dat I got las' Augus'^ sho'. 

Chris'mas hit's a-comin' ! 
Darkies ain' de same! 
Chris'mas in de bones, den, 
Ef dey fairly hones, den, 
Fer ongawdly doin's, hit's jes' Christmas dafs ter blame! 



6< 



THE TURKEY-DREAM* 

Mandy's in a tukkey-dream, 

Hi dar, ]\Iandy ! you-dar ! 
— Gal doan' even year me scream — 

Time you'z gittin' thu dar ! 
Yeard de chu'n a hour ergo, 

Dashing splishin', splasliin', 
Gittin' all de time mo' slow 

'Twel hit stoj)^ so-fashion. 
Mandy ! Mandy ! w'at you mean ? 
Is you los' yo' senses clean ? 

* "Tukkey-dream" is a negro eciuivalent for *'day-drcam ' 

66 




Maiuly's in ci tiikUcv-tlrcam 



THE TURKEY-DREAM 

Kittle empty, fire out, 

All de wu'k a-waitin^ 
Mandy, Mandy, w'at you 'bout? 

See dat cat piratin ! 
Jinks, ter ketch you roguin' drives 

'Straction thu an' thu me ! 
Kyountin' on dem ol' nine lives 

Fer ter up an' do me ? 
Jes' you tetch anu'rr sip. 
Lose 'em all at one big clip ! 

Mandy's haid is in de clouds, 

Eyes far-offly rollin', 
Yit I boun' dey ain' see crowds, 

Room fer jes' one soul in. 
Ef de butter come er no 

Wat dat Mandy kyarin' ? 
Studyin' 'bout her trashy beau, 

Wid her haid a-rarin'. 
Nuttin' lak a beau, hit seems^ 
Mek dese gals dream tukkey-drcams. 



6y 



THE TURKEY-DREAM 

Gal, now listen ter yo' maw, 

— Jinks, you stop dat mewin' — 
Dish yer is a sho'-'nufif law, 

Folks mus' keep a-doin'. 
Else deir butter ain' gwine come, 

Nuttin' else dey's atter ; 
'Sides, you orter I'arn dis, too, 

— N center laugh! no matter — 
Wiles you dream yo' tukkey-dream 
Some 'un else gwine lap de cream. 



SUNDAY FISHIN^ 

Stop de janglin' uv dat bell, 
Deacon Swif ^ you mought ez well : 
Close de books, putt out de light, 
Be no preachin' yer dis night ; 
Come ter tell you, wid p'mission 
Dat de preacher gone a-fishin'. 

Saw him at de ten-mile dam, 
Settin' dar ez cool an' ca'm, 
Waitin' fer de fish ter bite, 
Eben den 'twuz nigh mos' niglu. 
Bait in mouf an' i)()lc a-swishin', 
Dar de preacher sot a-fishin'. 

7i 



SUNDAY FISHIN 

Shucks ! He done forgot dis flock ! 
I crope up behime de rock. 
Saw him w'en he bruck his hue, 
Yeard him say some wu'ds — nemmine, 
Preachers mighty nigh perdishin 
Wen dey quits an' goes a-fishin\ 

Doan' corndem de man, I say, 
ilebbe Peter felt dat way. 
Tired sometimes er fishin' souls, 
Longin' fer he nets an' poles ; 
I kain't he p a kind er s'pishin 
Dat he honed ter go a-fishin'. 

W'en de Sunday nice an' fine, 
Ain' you nuver cas' yo' line? 
Fishes ap' ter bite, some ways, 
Better den dan on week-days ; 
Dem whar bin in dat p'sishin 
Kain't be hard on Sunday fishin'. 

Wrassel fer de man in prayer ? 
So be, bre'ren, I doan' kyare, 
On'y, add a prayer fer all 
Dem dat blames de preacher's fall : 
Call down grace fer us whar wishin' 
Dat, lak him, we'd gone a-fishin'. 

^2 



MY LI'L GAL DONE GOT A BEAU 

My li'l gal done got a beau ! 

Dasso ! 
Dat young rapscalyun hangin' roun' 
Yer uver sence he strike clis town, 
But dat not bodder me a-tall, 
I thought, ''She jes' a chile, dat's all.'' 

But sho' ! 
She big enuff ter git a beau ! 

I didn' eben s'pishin dem 
Wen she let down her dress's hem. 
An' fixed her hya'r de growed-up way, 
An' wo' raid ribunds ev'y day, 

I hit sho'! 
Dat gal she fix tor ketch a l)cau. 

7Z 



MY LI L GAL DONE GOT A BEAU 

I orter seed right thu hit all 

When she lef ' off a-playin' doll ; 

De dolls dey kain't love back, you know, 

An' dressin' dem hit pow'ful slow, 

Fer sho', 
Long side er dressin' fer a beau. 

He mighty slick'ry ! w'en he see 
Me comin' roun', dat quick sezee, 
"I spec's you orter he'p yo' maw, 
She done look mighty tired." Oh, law ! 

Jesso 
Dey all talks w'en dey'z playin' beau ! 

De fus' I knowed wuz one warm night; 
De moon wuz shinin' full an' bright, 
De groun'-pea patch wuz wet wid dew, 
De milyun-patch wuz glis'nin', too ; 

Fer sho', 
De ve'y night ter bring a beau. 



74 




or Oomaii. wi'S a-.i^ilim' op 



MY LI L GAL DONE GOT A BEAU 

I sot jes' whar de hop-vine th'owed 
Hit's shadder roun' de do', an' growed 
So thick dem chillen didn' see 
Dat 'hime hit sot ol' man an' me. 

You know 
Gals kin' er blin' 'longside dey beau. 

Suz ! w'ile dey'z swingin' on de gate, 
I yeard a soun', an' sho' ez fate 
I see dat darky up an' kiss 
My li'I gal, my li'l M'liss ! 

"Fer sho'," 
Sez paw, ''dat gal done got a beau !" 

Sez I, ^'Gwine fix dat fool dis day 
Fer kiss a li'l gal dat-a-way !" 

"Now jes' set still, ol' gal," sezee, 

"An' let dat co'tin' couple be. 
You know 
Growed gals is boun' ter have dey beau. 



77 



MY LI L GAL DONE GOT A BEAU 

''Shucks ! w'en we done ow' co'tin' we 
Wuz jes' ez young ez dem two be. 
or 'ooman, we's a-gittin' on, 
Dat li'l gal uv ow'n gone 

Fer sho', 
Bekase she bin an' got a beau." 

My H'l gal done got a beau, 

Dasso ! 
No use ter wring my ban's an' cry, 
De li'l gal she clean gone by ! 
Oh, chile, bes' man you uver saw 
Will nuver love you lak yo' maw ! 

But sho' ! 
Dat gal doan' kyare, — she got a beau i 



78 



WHAR DEM SINFUL APPLES GROW 

Ol' Adam he live in de Gyardin uv Eden, 

('Way down yonner) 
He didn' know writin' an' he didn' know readin', 

('Way down yonner) 
He stay dar erlone jes' eatin' an' a-sleepin', 
He say, ''Dis mighty po' comp'ny Fse a-keepinV' 
'Way down yonner whar dem sinful apples grow. 

So dey tuck ol' Adam an' dey putt him a-nappin', 

('Way down yonner) 
An' de fus' thing you know dish yer w'at happen, 

('Way down yonner) 
Dey tucken his rib an' dey made a 'ooman, 
She mighty peart an' she spry an' she bloomin', 
'Way down yonner whar dem sinful a])i)les grow. 



79 



WHAR DEM SINFUL APPLES GROW 

Dey 'spute sometimes an' he say, ol' Adam^ 
('Way down yonner) 
*'You nuttin' but spar'-rib, nohow, madam," 
('Way down yonner) 
She say, ''Dat de trufe an' hit ain' a-hu't'n', 
Fer de spar'-rib's made f um a hawg, dat's sut'n," 
'Way down yonner whar dem sinful apples grow. 

De Sarpint he slip in de Gyardin uv Eden, 

('Way down yonner) 
He seed Mis' Eve an' he 'gun his pleadin', 

('Way down yonner) 
'Twel she tucken de apple an' den he quit 'er, 
Hissin', ''Ho ! ho ! dat fruit mighty bitter." 

'Way down yonner whar dem sinful apples grow. 

or Adam he say, ''W'at dat you eatin'?" 
('Way down yonner) 
"Please gimme a bite er dat summer-sweetin'," 
('Way down yonner) 
She gin de big haff wid de core an' de seed in. 
An' dar whar she show her manners an' her breeding 
'Way down yonner whar dem sinful apples grow. 



80 



WHAR DEM SINFUL APPLES GROW 

Den Adam he ac' right sneakin' sho'ly, 

('Way down yonner) 
An' mek his 'scuse ter de Lawd right po'ly, 

('Way down yonner) 
Blamin' Eve 'kase she do w'at he tell 'er, 
An' settin' dat 'zample fer many a feller, 

'Way down yonner whar dem sinful apples grow. 

Den de Lawd He say in de Gyardin uv Eden, 

('Way down yonner) 
'No sech a man shell do my weedin'," 

('Way down yonner) 
So fo'th f'um de Gyardin de Lawd He bid him, 
An' o' co'se Mis' Eve she up an' went wid him, 
'Way down yonner whar dem sinful apples grow. 

Oh, sinner^ is you in de Gyardin uv Eden ? 

('Way down yonner) 
Is you on dem sinful apples feedin' ? 

('Way down yonner) 
Come out, oh, sinner, befo' youse driven, 
De debil gwine git you cf you goes on livin' 

'Way down yonner whar dem sinful apples grow ! 



8r 



BUCK-STEER 

Yas^ bosses is good fer ter run a race, 
I ain' gwineter 'ny dat dey has dey place, 
But dey got sech a turr'bl' tas'e fer oats, 
An' cawn jes' melts down dey guzzlin' th'oats; 
Ef I owned a boss, dougb, Ed treat bim wbite, 
Dese rack-o'-bone beas' is a scan'lous sigbt. 
Ef you gits you a boss, den you gotter scratch 
Erroun' fer a wagon an' all ter match, 
'Kase de boss is a qual'ty sorter beas'. 
An' be orter be 'spected, ter say de leas'. 
Doan' talk ter me, ncener, crbout de mewl, 



82 




#ir m 



i I 



BUCK-STEER 

De trouble wid him is he ac' de fool, 

He think dat he know w'at yo' bizness is 

Heap better dan uver you know w'at 'tis. 

You pull ter de right, he pull ter de lef. 

An' you got no way fer ter he'p yo'se'f ; 

You hurry him up an' he slow right down, 

Er plant hisse'f, stubbo'n^ an' stan' his groun' ; 

You 'suade an' you 'suade him an' fus' you know 

His heels is up an' youse down below. 

Naw, gimme my steer, w'ich his name is Buck^ 

An' my ol' ox-kyart fer ter hoi' my truck. 

An' I 'oon swap out fer no mewl ner hoss, 

No matter how much moughter bin dey cos'. 

I unnerstan' Buck an' he unnerstan' me, 

He ''haws" w'en he's hawed an' he "gees" fer "gee." 

Dat steer ain' gaited, he's right much slow. 

But he'll teck you jes' whar you wanster go ; 

He ain' gwineter hurry, he ain' gwine fuss. 

But he does mo' wu'k dan some lively cuss 

Dat prances an' capers an' putts on airs 

An' ends wid lan'in' you Lawd knows whars. 

W'en I goes ter town in my li'l ox-kyart 

I gin ol' Buck jes' a wu'd ter start, 



85 



BUCK-STEER 

Den I ain' hatter bodder 'bout him no mo', 
My min' goes a-trabeHn' to and fro, 
^Twel she gits wo' out an' I draps ersleep, 
But de steer jes' amble erlong an' keep 
A-goin' ez stiddy ez clock-han's roun' 
'Twel he stop whar I trades my truck in town, 
I \e\l you my 'spec' f er dat steer is mo' 
Dan I has fer mos' humans I uver know. 
He nuver complain an' he nuver whine 
Ner sets up 'pinions dat 'sputes wid mine, 
He knows w'at his wu'k is an' putts hit thu. 
An' dat's mo' dan some er us humans do. 
I tell you, I'd hatter have low-down luck 
Befo' I 'ud part wid my ol' steer. Buck. 



86 



MY CHILLEN'S PICTYAH 
(an episode of amateur photography) 

Hi^ chillen ! w'at on yearf dis mean dat you doan' arnser 

me? 
Dem's de beatenes' lot er chillen dat uver I did see ! 
I gin'ly has ter hunt fer 'em er ketch 'em on de fly, 
Per, dough I ses de wu'd myse'f, my chillen monst'ous 

spry. 

Dar's Nancy, now, a-hidin' 'hime dat woodpile, lak a fool. 
An' yer comes Araminty Zo a-kitin' l)ack f um sclux^l ; 
An' Zip done say dat he a-gwine a-huntin' cotton-tails — 
Law ! dar dat boy now, sho' 'z yo' bawn, a-roostin' top 
dem rails. 

87 



MY CHILLEN S PICTYAH 

Come down yer 'meejit, chillen, whar dese wilier bushes 

grow, 
An' Stan' yo'se'fs toge'rr in a nice an' eben row. 
Yer's man f um town dat wahster teck a pictyah uv you 

all, 
An' say he gimme one ter keep widout no cos' a-tall. 

Now doan' you stop ter wash yo' han's er fix in Sunday 

clo'es, 
Man say he wan' you come jes' so, 'n' I reckon dat he 

knows. 
Yer, Zip, you stan' between de gals, an' stop dat pinchin' 

trick, 
An' ef you doan' stop gigglin' so, I fotch you all a lick ! 

Yer, Nancy, putt dem han's er yo'n toge'rr, jine em so. 
An' try an' look mo' sensible, lak Araminty Zo ! 
You s'poze I want a pictyah fer ter keep thu all my days 
Wid chillen grinnin' out dey moufs in no-kyoun' foolish 
ways ? 



88 



MY CHILLEN S PICTYAH 

Now look jes' whar man tell you to — ^^you Zip, tu'n out 

dem toes ! 
Wat ! tuck a'raidy ! Dat's ez quick ez uver lightnin' goes ! 
Tse mighty 'bleeged, an' on'y wish dat hit mought so 'a 

bin 
You hadn' tuck dey pictyah wid dat mos' owdacious grin. 

But, atter all, w'y, mebbe hit's ez well dat dat shu'd be, 
'Kase w'en deys growed an' full er kyares an' I mought 

wanter see 
Jes' how my li'l kyareless, happy chillen useter look, 
I'll go retch down de pictyah dat you has so kin'ly took. 



89 



THE CONJURE-DOCTOR 

She's a cunjer-doctah, she is fer sho', 
Hit's de trufe I'se tellin', I orter know, 
'Kase she cunjer me good, you neenter laff, 
An' she cunjer ow' cow an' de spotted calf, 
An' she cunjer my mammy an' daddy, too^ 
An' dey ain' no eend ter de tricks she do. 
Mean pussons pay her fer puttin' de spell, 
Den yoit gotter pay fer ter mek you well. 
Got a heap er money all hid erway, 
But she done putt a hoo-doo on, dey say, 
So ef you shu'd fin' hit, instid uv cash 
You'd hoi' in yo' fistes some no-kyoun' trash. 



90 



ym^^^- 



Slu- s a I uiijri iloi lali. >li 



THE CONJURE-DOCTOR 

She's a blue-gom nigger, dat w'at I know, 
So her bite is pizen, dey all sesso, 
An' ebil-eye, lawsy ! she got dat, too^, 
You better min' out w'en she look at you. 
She do lak she sewin' on kyarpet-rags 
But I boun' you she makin' ol' cunjer-bags. 
Deep down in dat baskit she got a lot 
Er dem cunjer doin's. I tell you w'at 
We foun' one day in de midse er de baid ; 
'Twuz a cunjer-bag! an' de thing wuz raid, 
Dat's de color uv blood, youse knowin' dat ; 
Eenside wuz a piece uv de wing uv bat, 
An' a toad-frog's foot an' a squinch-owl's toe, 
An' a tuf uv hya'r an' a heap lot mo' 
Dat I kain't jes' 'member, an' ev'ything 
Wuz tankled an' tied wid a piece uv string. 
Ef dey ain' fin' dat w'en dey shuk de baid 
I spec' ev'y one er we-all bin daid. 
Dey tucken hit yer ter dis ol' Aunt Sue 
An' pay her fer gittin' de spell ondo, 
An' some un else, jes' ez sho' ez yo' bawn, 
Done paid her fer puttin' dc hoo-doo on. 
I wuz gwine erlong up de road (^nc day 
W'en I seed her a-stoopin' dcnvn (lis way 



93 



THE CONJURE-DOCTOR 

At de front do'step iiv Link Timms's house, 

An' I kep' jes' ez still ez de stilles' mouse; 

Wen she go erway den I go an' spy, 

An' dar 'z a live toad-frog she gone an' tie 

Fas' by de laig to a stick in de groun'^ 

An' de string wuz all tankled an' knotted roun' 

Wid bits uv raid flannen. My Ian', I flew ! 

Ef you kin believe me, f us' news I knew 

Link Timms's young baby-gal up an' died 

Soon atter I seed dat 'ar toad-frog tied. 

She'll ketch us a-peekin' ! we better run. 

She won't stan' styarin' f'um any one, 

Hit meks her plum' mad, an' we may git trick', 

We better mek tracks f'um dis place right quick, 

'Kase dese cunjer-doctahs dey year an' see 

Nemmine ef folks whuspers lak you an' me. 

Hit's de trufe I'se tellin', I orter know. 

She's a cunjer-doctah, slie is, fer sho' ! 



94 



WHEN THE CROP'S LAID BY.* 

Wen de crap's laid by, w'en de crap's laid by, 
Den I years de blades a-rus'lin' 
An' dey whuspers, ''No mo' bus'lin'. 
Go 'long, nigger, quit yo' hus'lin', 
Fer de crap's laid by, 

Hit's Angus'^ good ol' Angus', an' de crap's laid by." 

*This expression does not refer to harvest, but to that season, 
usually during the month of August, when the corn-crop needs no 
further working, and the "hands" are foot-loose. This is the time 
generally chosen for the "big-meetin's" of the year. 

95 



WHEN THE CROP S LAID BY 

Wen de crap's laid by, w'en de crap's laid by, 
Den de tossels nod an' beckon, 
An' dey ses ter me, ''I reckon. 
Time yo' holiday youse teckin', 
Fer de crap's laid by^ 

Hit's Angus', good ol' Angus', an' de crap's laid by." 

W'en de crap's laid by, w'en de crap's laid by. 
No mo' plowin', no mo' hoein'. 
Den de time done come fer goin', 
Dat w'at ol' Dick-mewl a-knowin', 
W'en de crap's laid by, 

In Angus', good ol' Angus', w'en de crap's laid by. 

W'en de crap's laid by, w'en de crap's laid by. 
An' dar's nuttin' mo' ter hinner. 
Den I 'members I'se a sinner, 
'Tends de meetin's whar dey's dinner 
W'en de crap's laid by. 

In Angus', good ol' Angus', w'en de crap's laid by. 



96 



WHEN THE CROP S LAID BY 

Wen de crap's laid by;, w'en de crap's laid by, 
I gits happy thu an' thu me, 
Gits me 'ligion nufif ter do me 
Twel nex' Augus' come roun' to me, 
Wen de crap's laid by, 

In Augus', good ol' Augus', w'en de crap's laid by. 

Wen de crap's laid by, w'en de crap's laid by. 
An' de moon shines out so brightly. 
We goes sparkin' so perlitely, 
Dat de gals doan' hate us, quitely, 
W'en de crap's laid by. 

In Augus';, good ol' Angus', w'en de crap's laid by. 

W'en de crap's laid by, w'en de crap's laid by, 
Den you hasn' no misgivin' 
Dat youse uver gvv^ine feel driven. 
An' youse glad ter jes' be livin', 
W'en de crap's laid by. 

In Angus', good ol' Angus', w'en de crap's laid by. 



97 



WEN I SEES A YALLER GAL 

Oh ! w'en I sees a yaller gal 

A-comin' down de paff, 
I gits my eyes all fixed fer her, 

My mouf begins ter laff, 
An' den dat li'l yaller gal 

She jes' kain't pass me by 
Widout her mouf a-drippin' smiles, 

An' sparkles in her eye. 

Oh;, dem yaller, yaller ladiz 
Kain't pass me w'en dey tries, 

I sets dey hearts a-flutt'rin' 
Wid my goo-goo eyes. 

98 





I ^iis my eyes all fixed fcr her, 
My mouf beijiiis tcr laff 



LOfC. 



W EN I SEES A YALLER GAL 

Oh, Jim's a mighty plowin'-han', 

An' Sile kin use de hoe, 
An' Sam kin pick de cotton fas', 

An' Eph kin swing de bow. 
An' Jeff's a banjer picker, suz ! 

An' Wash kin darnse lak fun, 
But w'en hit comes ter yaller gals 

I beats 'em ev'y one. 

Oh, dem yaller, yaller ladiz^ 
I tecks 'em by supprize. 

An' sets dey hearts all flutt'rin' 
Wid my goo-goo eyes. 

But w'en dat li'l Reby-gal 

Come swingin' down de paff. 
My eyes done quit dey rollin' roun'. 

My mouf fergit ter laff, 
'Kase Reby she ain' stop a-tall. 

She jes' go sailin' by, 
A-laughin' at me wid her mouf 

An' teasin' wid her eye. 

Oh, dat yaller, yaller lady, 

De on'ies' one I prize. 
Done set my heart all flutt'rin' 

Wid her goo-goo eyes. 

lOI 



TELL 'EM HOWDY 

You think dat baby favor me? 
Well, I dunno how dat may be, 
Some think he look jes' lak he paw, 
Some say he imidge iiv he maw. 
Dat nose er his'n, flat an' close^ 
I think hit favor paw de mos', 
Dem gre't big eyes er his he may 
Git f 'um he maw, dat w'at dey say. 

But, honey, w'at I kyare 'bout dat ! 
I on'y knows youse roun' an' fat 
An' sof an' cute an' mighty sweet, 
An' plenty good enuff ter eat ! 
Now son, set up an' be good chile. 
An' show de ladiz, w'en you smile, 
Dem li'l bran' new toofs er yo'n 
Dat bit my finger ter de bone. 

102 



TELL EM HOWDY 

But law ! he done hit jes' in play, 
'Twuz jes' ez ef he mean ter say, 
"I knows de use er toofs — ter eat^, 
An' you kain't fool me, dish yer's meat." 
Stop suckin' er dat li'l fis' 
An' wave yo' li'l han' lak dis. 
An' tell de ladiz "Howdy." Son ! 
He won' show off fer any one. 

De fus' thing at de peek er day, 

Dat chile set up in bed an' say, 

''Maw ! howdy, maw !" An' pull my hya'r 

Wid all he might, I do declar'. 

An' w'en he paw go off ter wu'k 

He wave he han's an' fairly ju'k 

F'um out my arms, sweet li'l man, 

A-yellin' ''Howdy !" loud 'z he can. 

An' w'en he paw git home at night 
Hit sut'n'y is a pooty sight 
Ter see dat baby laugh an' crow 
An' "Howdy" w'en he paw "Hello!" 
Dat 'bout de on'y wu'd he know. 
An' w'en folks come an' w'en dey go, 
Ef dey doan' teck no note er him, 
He call out "Howdy!" li'l limb! 
103 



TELL EM HOWDY 

But ef dey coaxes^ jes' dat sho' 

He suck he li'l fis' de mo'. 

Hit pears ter me dat 'bout de way 

Dat big folks ac'in' ev'y day : 

Jes' coax an' mek 'em think dey's some 

An' all de mulier dey become, 

But jes' you leave 'em ter deyse'f — 

Come roun' so quick hit teck yo' bref. 

Now w'at I tell you ! jes' see dere ! 
He think we done fergit ter kyare, 
An' so he up an' show he trick : 
My blessed lamb, but you is slick ! 
Yas, tell 'em ''Howdy," — see him grin ! 
Now watch 'em jes' ez fur 'z you kin. 
Myse'f doan' think a man quite right 
Dat doan' watch ladiz out er sight. 



104 



LAY LOW, MISTER TUKKEY 

Chris'mas comin', sho'z yo' bawn, 
Bes' stop stuffin' all dat cawn, 
Quit dat struttin' 'crost de lawn, 
Lay low, Mister Tukkey. 

Yas, dem wattles mighty fine, 
Dem briinze fedders shine an' shine, 
An' yo' by'ud right long — nemmine. 
Lay low, Mister Tukkey. 

Fines' one nv all de lot, 

Dat de one dey gwineter spot. 

You be scalded in de pot, 

Lay low. Mister Tukkey. 

105 



LAY LOW, MISTER TURKEY 

You be roas'ed on de spit, 
'Kase you stuffed all you cu'd git, 
We-all hens be roun' yer yit, 
Lay low, Mister Tukkey. 

My oV Mammy alluz 'lowed, 
"Nuver pays ter be too proud, 
Bes' keep right 'long wid de crowd," 
Lay low. Mister Tukkey. 

Knows dese white folks an' deir ways, 
Fats you up bekase hit pays, 
Bes' be ''po'-folks" dese yer days. 
Lay low, Mister Tukkey. 



1 06 



ANSWERING THE MOCKING-BIRD 

Li'l bird in yonner tree, 

Swingin', 

Singin', 
I wish you Tarn dat song ter me, 

Singin', 

Swingin'. 
Oh, H'l bird all white an' gray, 
You mocks de urr birds by day 
But sings yo' own sweet song at night, 
Oh^ li'l bird all gray an' white ! 

107 



ANSWERING THE MOCKING-BIRD 

Li'l bird in yonner tree, 

Mockin', 

Talkin', 
You mummies ev'y one you see, 

Talkin', 

Mockin'. 
Oh, li'l bird all white an' gray, 
Hit mus' be fun ter do dat way, 
But I ain' sho' hit's jes' perlite, 
Oh, li'l bird all gray an' white ! 

Li'l bird in yonner tree, 

Whustlin', 

Rustlin', 
Youse happy 'kase youse wil' an' free, 

Rustlin', 

Whustlin'. 
Oh, li'l bird all white an' gray, 
I whustles, too, bekase I'se gay, 
We got no kyares, ow' wu'k is light. 
Oh, li'l bird all gray an' white ! 



io8 




I vvhusLlcs too, bekase I'sc gay 



ANSWERING THE MOCKING-BIRD 

Li'l bird in yonner tree, 

Wingin', 

Singin', 
Ef on'y I a bird cu'd be, 

Singin', 

Wingin', 
Den, li'l bird all white an' gray, 
I'd mock de urr songs by day. 
An' keep my own fer her at night, 
Oh,, li'l bird all gray an' white ! 



Ill 



GITTIN' UNDER POWER 

Miss Belle, you better ga'rr all yo' hens an' tukkies in, 
Fer de big contractid meetin' is gwineter soon begin. 
You know las' time dey got 'em all, an' all de lambs an' 

shotes, 
Befo' de meetin' stopped, had gone down some dem con- 

vu'ts' th'oats. 

I ain' swored off f um goin', an' I may git happy some, 
But I 'clared las' time dat w'en erg'in contractid meetin' 

come, 
Dough I mought set on de mo'ners' bench an' sing a bit 

an' shout, 
T doan' git under power ef I knows w'at I'se erbout. 



IT2 



GITTIN UNDER POWER 

Miss Belle, some dem fool wimmins 'buse dey 'ligious 

priverlidge, 
An' 'tend dey's under power, lak dat Lize f'um on de 

Ridge, 
An' does all kin's er mean low tricks you gotter stan', fer 

dey 
Lets on dat dey dunno a-tall dey's kyar'yin' on dat-a-way. 

I ain' bin tol' you 'bout de furse I had wid Lize las' 'ear 
Wen she wuz gittin' 'ligion at de meetin's over yer? 
Her soul's healt' ain' w'at bring her all dat distunz thu 

'de dark ; 
Dat gal she full er meanness, an' she come ter have a lark. 

One night I went wid Cashus Clay, an' on my haid I wo' 
De bigges' hat dat I cu'd fin' at dat ar One-Price Sto' ; 
Fd bent hit roun' an' kotched hit up jes' over one my 

years. 
An' putt on all de 'ficial flow's you gin me dese five 'ears. 

Well, honey, w'en we got ter chu'ch dat Liza she wuz 

dar, 
A-singin' an' a-shoutin' an' a-jumpin' in de air; 
She'd roll her eyes an' clap her ban's an' raise up on de 

toe, 
An' grunt lak dis, '*Um-umph ! um-umph !" an' come 

down haivy, so. 

113 



GITTIN UNDER POWER 

Twere all putt on ! I knows de signs er gittin' under 

power, 
Dough dey may show de whites dey eyes an' jump up by 

de hour, 
Dey kain't fool me ! Wen dat gal see my hat an' Cashus 

Clay, 
I seed her look 'er meanness ez she started down ow' way. 

She done bin atter Cash husse'f, but 'tain' a bit er use, 
Fer Cash doan' pay no 'tention 'tall ter sech a grinnin' 

goose. 
She come cavawtin' up ter me an' struck me in de face 
An' grabbed my hat f'um off'n me an' 'gun ter tear de 

lace. 

"Gal, come erg'in!" I ses ter her, "I'se raidy fer a fight!" 
"Stop! Stop!'' dey ses, "she under power, ter hit her ain' 

bin right !" 
Miss Belle, I hatter see dat gal jes' tear my hat in bits 
An' I fell up 'gin Cashus lak I gwineter go in fits. 

Dat mek her madder'n uver yit ter see Cash holdin' me, 
She to' my flow's ter frazzles, twel dey wuz a sight ter 

see. 
An' den she wake up sudden, 'tendin' lak she jes' come to, 
An' ses, "I hopes you 'scuse me, fer I ain' know w'at I 

do." 

114 



GITTIN UNDER POWER 

"Sho', gal ! go 'way !'' sez I ter her. *'Dat wuz a game you 

played ! 
Huccome you know so well jes' whar you 'souses mus' be 

made?" 
''Dellaws !" sez she, a-grinnin' kind er deb'lish-lak at dat, 
'*I sees dis rubbidge an' I sees dat you ain' got no hat !" 

"Gal ! come outside !" I ses ter her, but she grown mighty 

good; 
"Dish yer's contractid meetin', sister^ er I sut'n'y would." 
"Gre't-Day-in-de-mawnin', gal!" sez I, "bes' min' w'at 

youse erbout, 
Fer de fus' nex' time I meet you we'se gwineter have dis 

out!" 
I hatter set all meetin' thu widout no hat an' see 
Dat gal a-cuttin' capers an' a-mekin' fun er me ; 
She'd roll her eyes at Cash an' grin, an' pick up bits er 

hat, 
But putt right quick w'en meetin' 'z out, — I tuck good 

note er dat. 
I ain' sot eyes upun her sence, she done keep out my way. 
She 'z a pulin' sawt er nigger an' she's 'feard er me, dey 

say. 
She spec's ter 'tend de meetin's, so I year, an' ef she do, 
Gre't King! I'se gwineter fin' some way ter putt dat darky 

thu. 

115 



GITTIN UNDER POWER - 

I done bin tol' you I ain' kyare 'bout gittin' under power, 
But we-all darkies nuver knows jes' w'en de Heav'nly 

shower 
Is comin' down, an' ef I should jes' happen in dat state, — 
Dar ain' gwine be one spear er wool lef on dat 'ooman's 

pate! 



ii6 



SKEESICKS 

Yas, '^Skeesicks/' dat's my puppy's name^ 

De sma'tes' li1 dog, suh, 
Heap better dan dem gre't big ones, 

He ain' no bump-on-log, suh ! 
I 'oon swap Skeesicks fer no dog, 

No pointer, houn' ner setter, 
*Kase w'y? He's mine, T knows his p'ints. 

In co'se I knows he's better. 

117 



SKEESICKS 

I made dis li'l kyart myse'f, 

An' Skeesicks loves ter draw hit, 
He lemme back him in de shaf's 

De fustes' time he saw hit. 
He minds me good, 'cep' w'en he sees 

A cat, an' den he races, 
Upsets de kyart an' spills de load 

An' bus's clean thu de traces. 

I tell you he ain' "dog," he's "folks/' 

He knows jes' w'at I'se thinkin', 
He'll set an' watch my face fer hours 

Widout so much ez blinkin' ; 
An' ef I try ter steal erway 

Widout my puppy knowin', 
Yer come dat Skeesicks sneakin' 'long. 

He know jes' whar I'se goin'. 

He slinks erlong ontwel I laff. 

An' den he tail 'gins waggin', 
An' he comes kitin' down de paff 

An' quits dat scrouchy laggin' ; 
He snuggles on my baid at night, 

Erfraid I'll quit 'fo' mawnin', 
An' licks my face ter wake me up 

Jes' 'bout w'en day is dawnin'. 
ii8 



o 



^ 
ty 




SKEESICKS 

Dat dog he's sho'-'nuff gemman-bawn, 

You nuver ketch him thieving 
Ner suckin' aigs, he's jes' de kin' 

Dat you kin trus' an' b'lieve in. 
De on'ies' time he ac's lak "dog" 

Is w'en I tease him, tryin' 
Ter teck his bone^ er w'en some cat 

Gits ac'in' too high-flyin'. 

I loves him mo' dan I kin tell, 

An' he loves me de sames', 
An' ef you knowed him lak I does 

You sho'ly cudden blame us. 
Mo'n hunnerd dollars ain' kin buy, 

'Oon swap fer houn' ner setter, 
'Kase Skeesicks's mine, I knows his p'ints. 

In co'se I knows he's better. 



121 



QUIT YO' WORRYIN' 

Nigger nuver worry, — 

Too much sense fer dat, 
Let de white folks scurry 

Roun' an' lose dey fat, 
Nigger gw4ne be happy, nuver-min'-you whar he at. 

Nigger jes' kain't worry, — 

Set him down an' try^ 
No use, honey, fer he 

Sho' ter close he eye. 
Git so pow'ful sleepy dat he pass he troubles by. 

Cur'ous, now, dis trouble 

Older dat hit grown, 
'Stid er gittin' double, 

Dwinnle ter de bone ; 
Xigger know dat, so dat why he lef ' he troubles 'lone. 



122 



QUIT YO WORRYIN 

Nigger nuver hurry, 

Dem w'at wants ter may ; 
Hurry hit mek worry ! 
Now you year me say 
Ain' gwine hurry down de road ter meet oV Def half 
way! 

Den quit yo' hurryin', 

Quit yo' worryin' ! 

Wat de use uv all dis scurryin'? 
Mek or Time go sof an' slow, 
Tell him you doan' want no mo' 

Dish yer uverlastin' flurrying — 

Jes' a trick er his fer hurryin' 

Folks de faster to'des dey burryin' ! 



123 



OL' MISTER GRAY-MOSS 

A OL^, or gemman wid long gray hya'r 

Lives up dar in de live-oak tree ; 
He say, "You chillen better teck kyare, 
Tain' safe fer y'all ter come pester me ! 
You teck my hyaV an' my by'ud erway, 
I ha'nt you good at de close er day 

Wen de witches walk 

An' de ghos'es talk 
An' de wuller-wusps 'mences ter darnse an' play. 

124 



OL MISTER GRAY-MOSS 

We lets him waggle dat ol' gray haid, 

We climbs an' climbs an' befo' he knows 
We snatch him bald, 'kase we ain' erfraid 

Long ez de face er de sun still shows; 
But w'en we see dat she's goin' down, 
We loads ow' kyart an' we meks fer town, 
'Kase de witches walk 
An' de ghos'es talk 
An' de wuller-wusps darnse w'en de light ain' roun' 

Dey ses w'en de moon comes out at night 
You kin see ol' Gray-moss jes' ez plain, 
Shakin' his hya'r an' his by'ud so white 

An' sighin' sof lak a man in pain. 
But we ain' year him, we'se safe in baid 
Wid de kivers drord tight erroun' ow' haid, 
Fer de witches walk 
An' de ghos'es talk 
An' de wuller-wusps darnse w'en de daylight's daid. 



127 



TOTIN' MOMMER'S BABY 

TsE my mommer's H'l gal, 
Dish yer mommer's baby, 

Dis de sixf one I done tote, 
Er de sebenf , maybe ; 

Wunner w'at my mommer done 

Wen I wuz de on'ies' one ; 

Who toted mommer's baby ? 

Naw'm, dis ain' li1 Jane, 

Dish yer one's anu'rr ; 
Janey she done Tarn ter walk, 

Dis ow' new li'l br'er. 
Six months ol', de ciinnin' limb, 
He know who a-holdin' him. 

Who totin' mommer's baby ! 

128 



TOTIN MOMMERS BABY 

Yas'm, I gits torble tired ; 

Dish yer chile right knowin', 
Digs he H'l toes in me 

Fer ter keep me goin' ; 
Ef I stop a w'ile ter play 
Mommer bang my haid an' say, 

'^G'long an' tote dat baby !" 

Spec' he think dat Fse his hoss, — 

Sho' ter set up squalHn' 
Ef I stop ter res' a w'ile. 

Wen she year him bawlin', 
Mommer say, 'Wat all dis 'bout? 
I come out dar an' wear you out^ 
Ef you doan' tote dat baby !" 

Wen Fse hongry fer a play. 
Lays him on de groun' den, 

Wid a bacon-rin' ter suck, 
Lawd ! I chase aroun' den. 

Kick my heels up same'z de colt, 

Done fergit I uver holt 

Er toted mommer's baby. 



129 



TOTIN MOMMERS BABY 

Ow' li'l Torm he gone ter Heav'n, — 

'Kase I drap him, maybe, 
Didn' go ter do dat-a-way, 

Done fergot de baby, 
Groun' flewed up an' hit he haid, 
'Fo' I knowed, dat chile wuz daid, 
My mommer's po' li'l baby. 

When I gits ter Heav'n, I'll drap 
Robe an' harp an' crown den, 

Putt out down dem gol'en streets. 
Won't kotch me aroun' den 

Ef some angel up an' say, 

'Li'l Torm's sister, step dis-a-way 

An' tote yo' mommer's baby !" 



130 



IN THE MELON-PATCH 

Down whar de cawn-blades are rus'lin' 
Rus'lin' an' whusp'rin' low, 

Dar's a mighty pleasant spot 

Wen de sun is gittin' hot, 
An' dar is whar us chillen loves ter go. 

Oh, hit's damp an' cool an' green 

All de shiny stalks between, 
An' dar is whar us chillen loves ter go. 

131 



IN THE MELON-PATCH 

Down whar de cawn-blades are rus-lin', 
Rus'lin' de livelong day, 

Dar we play at hide-an'-seek, 

Cudden fin' us in a week, 
An' dar is whar us chillen loves ter play. 

Oh, de roof is green an' new. 

An' de sun hit kain't leak thu, 
An' dar is -whar us chillen loves ter play. 

Down near de cawn-blades a-rus'Hn', 
Rus'lin' an' whusp'rin', too, 

Dar's a place dat's nicer yit, 

Wen we'se tired uv play an' quit, 
An' dar is whar we res' us w'en we'se thUe 

Oh, dey's sump'n in dat place 

Mighty pleasin' to de tas'e, 
An' dar is whar we res' us w'en we'se thu. 

Down near de cawn-blades a-rus'lin', 
Rus'lin' an' whusp'rin' sweet, 
Dar's a milyun-patch whar grows 
Jes' de bestes' fruit we knows, 
An' dat is w'at us chillen loves ter eat. 
Oh, so red an' green an' white 
Dat hit fills you wid delight^ 
An' dat is w'at us chillen loves ter eat. 
132 




Dar's a milyuii-patch wluir i;rc)\vs 
Jes' de bcstes' fruit we knows 



IN THE MELON-PATCH 

Down near de cawn-blades a-rus'lin', 
Rus'lin' an' whusp'rin' low, 
We-all drinks de sweet juice down 
F'um de cup so green an' roun', 

No wunner dat us chillen loves hit so. 
An' we grudge each drap dat drips 
F'um ow' thu'sty, thu'sty lips, 

No wunner dat us chillen loves hit so. 



135 



WHEN WE HEAR THE ORGAN DOWN THE 
STREET 

W'en I years de awgum playin' down de street, 

Draps de baby den an' goes a-scootin', 
Talk erbout yo' fiddles ! dey isn' half so sweet, 

Beats de angel Gab'l wid his tootin'. 
''Chillen, chillen !" dat w'at mommer say, 

''Doan' you dast a one er you ter foller !" 
Fus' thing mommer know, all us chillen up an' go 
Dancin' down de street, dis way, an' holler : 
''Ki ! Yi ! Ain' a-gwineter stay in 
W'en dat music playin', 
Now you year me sayin', 
Ki ! Yi ! Ain' a-gwineter stay in 
W'en I years de awgum playin' down de street." 

W'en we years de awgum playin' down de street 

All us li'l chillen feel so jolly, 
Music gits ter wu'kkin' in ow' haids an' in ow' feet, 

Mammy say we go clean off de trolley. 



136 



WHEN WE HEAR THE ORGAN DOWN THE STREET 

Dis way, dat way, ev'ywhar he goes 

Pollers up de gemman wid de awgum, 
Wile us li1 coons shake ow' footses ter de chunes 
Dat's sweeter dan de 'lasses made f um sawghum. 
Ki ! Yi ! White folks isn' in it 
Wen we-all begin it 
Sixty steps de minute, 
Ki ! Yi ! White folks isn' in it 
Wen we years de awgum playin' down de street. 

Wen dey years de awgum playin' down de street 

All de white folks ga'rr roun' a-grinnin', 
Toss us out de pennies twel dey light beneaf ow' feet, 

Kotch 'em wid ow' toes an' keep a-spinnin'. 
Dis way, dat way, see us crack ow' heels. 
Bet we beats de show folks in de bally, 
Cuts de pidjum-wing an' we does de highlum-fling 
Got some sho'-'nuff darnsers in ow' alley. 
Ki ! Yi ! Ain' us chillen funny ? 
Th'ow us down de money, 
Ain' we wu'f hit, honey ? 
Ki ! Yi ! Ain' us chillen funny 
Wen we years de awgum playin' down de street ? 



137 



CALLING THE COWS 

De sun is sidlin' down de sky, 

Behime de tree-tops hidin', 
De trimbly shadders growin' long, 

I years de tree-toads chidin' ; 
Hit's time I slip up to de bars, 

Befo' de jew 'gins falling 
An' fetch de cows home w'ile hit's light, 

A-callin' an' a-callin' : 

Come home^ Black Bess an' Buttercup, 

An' June an' all de res' ; 
I years yo' bells a-tinklin', 
De stars will soon be twinklin', 

De sun is in de wes'. 

138 




Hit's time I slip up lo 'Ic bars 



CALLING THE COWS 

All Up an' down de branch by day 

De lazy creeturs wanner, 
A-wadin', stannin', dey ain' kyare 

'Bout how much time dey squanner. 
An' now dey sa'nters long to'des home 

Ez ef dey jes' haff tryin', 
I wonner ef dey'd come a-tall 

Onless dey yearn me cryin' : 

Come home^ Black Bess an' Buttercup, 

An' June an' all de res' ; 
I years yo' bells a-tinklin', 
De stars will soon be twinklin', 

De sun is in de wes'. 

De mawnin's lovely w'en youse fraish 

An' all de birds is singin', 
But ev'nin's better, 'kase you knows 

De res' an' ease hit's bringin', 
An' w'en de cows comes lowin' home 

I falls ter thankful sighin', 
Dey ain' no gladder to be milked 

Dan I is to be cryin' : 



141 



CALLING THE COWS 



Come home, Black Bess an' Buttercup, 

An' June an' all de res' ; 
I years yo' bells a-tinklin', 
De stars will soon be twinklin', 

De sun is in de wes'. 



142 



IN SORGHUM TIME 

Oh^ de sawghum mill is goin', 
An' de bright green juice is flowin' 

Sweet an' gran', 
An' yo' Uncle Shadrach's feedin' 
Cane ez fas' ez hit's a-needin', 

Wid one han', 
Wiles de urr han' is grabbin' 
Dis long whip, an' w'en Jim's nabbin' 

(Dat's de mewl) 
At de refuge cane in passin', 
I jes' lets him know he dassen' — 

Jim, you fool ! 

143 



IX SORGHUM TIME 

Bet I cuts a better figger 
At dish yer dan any nigger 

In a mile ; 
I kin go all day not stoppin' 
'Cept fer eatin', ain' no floppin' 

'Bout dis chile. 
Big eend fus' I putts de cane in, — 
Laws-a-mussy, ain' it rainin' 

In de tub ! 
Run, you-all, an' git me sump'n 
'Fo' dis tubful gits ter slumpin' ! 

Time fer grub? 

Wait ontwel I does dis heap up. 
Lan' er tawment, Jim ! you creep up 

Lak a snail ! 
Hurry^ suh ! I'se jes' a-honin' 
Fer de bacon an' de pone in 

Dat 'ar pail. 
Um ! how good dey smells, dem 'lasses, 
Wen a whift er dem jes' passes 

'Crost my track ! 
Oh, dey meks de fines' sweet'in' 
Fer all sawts er scrumpshus eatin', 

Dat's de fac' ! 
144 



IN SORGHUM TIME 

Folks dey meks a gre't 'miration 
'Bout deir sugar, — gre't creation! 

Ez fer me, 
Dey kin have hit at a ba'gum. 
So dey lets me have my sawghum, 

Yas sirree ! 
See dat mewl ! de critter's blin', yit 
He doan' nuver seem ter min' hit, 

He's a limb ! 
Wen he pass dat cane he'll grab hit. 
Chaw same 'z ef he bin a rabbit, — 

Jim ! Jim ! Jim ! 

Come wid me, we'll stop a w'ile in 
Whar dey got de cane a-bilin'. 

Ain' dat gran'? 
Um ! de scum f 'um off dem 'lasses 
Hit's ez green ez w'at de grass is ! 

Dish yer pan 
Hoi's de thin juice, an' de secon' 
Lot is thicker yit, I reckon. 

An' de thu'd. 
Hit look mighty nigh ter 'lasses, 
Wen de ladle thu hit passes, 

'Pun my wu'd. 

145 



IN SORGHUM TIME 

Dish yer sawghum juice I ru'rr 
Think is lak a lot uv urr 

Things I'se known, 
Mighty no-kyoun' at de startin', 
An' dey's better, heap, fer sartin', 

Wen b'iled down. 
See dat Jim, how he jes' stuff him 
'Kase der's no one dar ter cuff him ! 

Jim^ you fool ! 
Ef I comes, Fse dat disgussid 
Dat der's gwineter be one bussid 

Up ol' mewl ! 



146 



MOM'S A WASHER-LADY 

Mom's a washer-lady, 

Goes out by de day, 
Washes fer de qual'ty. 

Give her right good pay. 
Tecks a lot ter feed an' 

Kiver up we-all, 
So ow' mommer scarcely 

Gits no res' a-tall. 

Some uv us is alluz 

Got ow' footses bare 
'Kase we'se alluz shufflin', 

Seem lak shoes won' wear. 
All de urr chillen 

Goes ter school in town 
Scusin' me an' sister. 

Toes is on de groun'. 

147 



MOM S A WASHER-LADY 

So we gotter wait twel 

Mommer gits ahaid, 
Gits de rent an' preacher 

'N Burrial-S'ci'ty paid. 
Me an' li'l sister 

Den we'll go ter school — 
Settin' on dis do'-step's 

Gittin' tol'ble cool. 

Mommer w'en she leave us, 

Fer ter stay all day. 
Locks us out de cabin, 

Tecks de key erway, 
'Kase she 'feard dat we-all 

Mought burn up de place 
Foolin' wif de matches 

Jes' ter see 'em was'e. 

Mommer say^ '^Now chillen, 

Min' out how you ac', 
Er I gwineter frail you 

Soon ez I git back ! 
P'licemens dey is alluz 

On de sharp lookout, 
Ketches no-kyoun' chillen 

Wen dey runs erbout." 



o 

o 



o 




MOMS A WASHER-LADY 

Putts US out some bacon 

An' a li'l pone 
An' fer ow' li'l puppy 

Nice big gnorrin'-bone ; 
Den she go an' leave us. 

Lawd ! w'y doan' she come? 
Golly ! but hit's lonesome 

Wen yo' maw ain' home ! 



151 



DE INCH-WU'M AN' DE HOPPER-GRASS 



Dey bofe wuz gwine eriong de road 

One lovely summer day, 
De Hopper he gin gre't big hops, 

An' git 'long fas' dat-a-way ; 
But Mister Inch-wu'm go right slow, 
He lay down flat, den hunch up so, 
Dat how he go. 

De Hopper soon kotch up wid him. 

An' pass de time er day ; 
He say, ''Law, Inch-wu'm, whar you gwine 
A-pokin' 'long dis-a-way ?" 
"I'se boun' fer Heav'n," de Inch-wu'm 'low, 
"Dough long de road, I'se m.ade my vow 
Git dar somehow." 



DE INCH-WU M AN DE HOPPER-GRASS 

De Hopper groun' he wings an' lafif, 
An' fix he laigs ter spring. 
'Tse gwineter Heav'n myse'f/' sezee, 
"You po' oV slow-coach thing ! 
Ef I git dar befo' you do, 
ril tell 'em youse a-comin', too. 
So-long ter you !" 

De Inch-wu'm ain' say nuttin' 'tall, 

But jes' keep on he pafif ; 

An' one fine day de Hopper come 

A-traipsin' back. He lafif, — 

"Or step-an'-f etch, still on de way ? 

I done bin dar an' back," he say, 

''Sence tu'rr day." 

Den Inch-wu'm r'ar he haid an' say, 

''Wat fer you done come back ? 
Wharfo' you leave dat Heav'nly home 
Ter trabel dis hard track ?" 
''Ho ! 'pears lak Heav'n an' me doan' suit. 
Set still all day, git tired, ter boot, 
An' den I scoot." 



153 



DE INCII-WU M AN DE HOPPER-GRASS 

'Mon/' sez de Inch-wu'm, ''dat de way 

Wid lively^ res'less men ; 
Git ev'ywhar in gre't big jumps, 

Den wan' git back ergain. 
Ef you inched 'long in my slow way, 
You bin right glad ter stop an' stay 
Twel Jedgmen' Day !" 

Now, chile, you year me tell you so, 

Hit jes' lak dat, fer fac', 
Wen folks gits 'ligion all ter onct, 

Dey boun' come slidin' back ; 
But dem w'at bit by bit inch 'long, 

Dey gwine ter jine dat Heav'nly th'ong, 
Wid praise an' song ! 



154 



JES' A-STUDYIN' 

Jes' a-studyin', studyin', studyin', 

Jes' a-studyin' all de day, 
My mammy sez Fse loafin' 

An' was'in' time erway; 
But mammy's jes' a 'ooman, 

I kain't spec' her ter know 
Boys' haids is plumb a-bustin' 

Wid things dat come an' go. 

Ain' got no job dat's reg'lar, 

Essept ter hoi' a hoss 
Up at de co'te-house, sometimes, 

Fer some big lawyer-boss. 
Dey sees me set yer studyin' 

An' comes an' calls me out 
An' ses, ''Hi, boy, come yer, suh ! 

Now w'at 'z you thinkin' 'bout?" 

T55 



JES A-STUDYIN 

I smiles an' looks real pleasan' 

An' jumps ter hoi' de rein, 
An' ses, ^'Who? me? I'se studyin', 

Jes' a-studyin', boss, ergain." 
Den Jedge he looks real pleasan' 

An' th'ows me down a dime^, 
And ses, ''Well, min' you tell me 

Wat you study 'bout, nex' time." 

Shucks ! cudden tell no pusson 

Jes' how my thoughts done roam. 
Dey trabbles thu creation 

Wile I sets yer at home 
Jes' studyin' 'bout de places 

I nuver spec's ter see, 
Esseptin' thu de pictyahs 

In my geog'aphy. 

I study 'bout ter-morrer, 

I study 'bout ter-day, 
I study 'bout de ol' times 

An' things dat's pas' erway, 
But mos' uv all I studies 

Ez hard ez I jes' can 
Erbout w at I'll be doin' 

Wen I'se a growed-up man, 
^56 




Jes' a-studyin' all de day 



JES A-STUDYIN 

So much dat meks me wunner, 
So much dat boys dunno, 
Sech li'l w'ile dey bin yer, 
Dat's w'y dey studies so. 

Jes' studyin', studyin', studying 
Jes' a-studyin' all de day^ 

An' yit some calls hit loafin' 
An' was'in' time erway. 



^59 



MISS JINNY 

Bin settin' yer mos' all las' night lak clis, 

So I be sut'n sho' dat I doan' miss 

De train dat teck me back ter we-all's place, 

An', honey, yo'n's de fustes' fren'ly face 

I'se seed, an' yo'n's de on'ies' fren'ly wu'd, 

'Alongs' all dis crowd, my po' ol' years has yeard. 

I ax some white trash, p'litely, ef dey know 

Jes' w'en de kyar fer we-all's place 'ud gO;, 

Dey bus' out laffin', an' den ofif dey went 

A-lettin' on dey doan' know whar I meant. 

Er ef dey didn' re'ly know, dat shows 

Dey's on'y trash ; de quality all knows 

l\Iy white-folks, an' jes' whar dey all belong. 

Honey, Fse mighty 'feard I start ofif wrong, 

I hopes you 'sense me ef I ax you plain 

Ter lemme know w'en dey calls ofif my train. 

160 




An' den I riz up, fer I seem ter see 
Dat 'uz dc wu'k de Lawd cut out fer nie! 



MISS JINNY 

I seed youse sho'-'nuff lady by yo' face, 

An' knowed you'd know de train fer we-all's place. 

Miss Jinny's maw she wanted me ter go 

Wid her w'en she went back, but I say no, 

I cudden leave Miss Jinny yer alone, — 

Seem lak I love her same'z she bin my own ! 

I nu'ss her sence she jes' a li'l mite. 

An' useter have her wid me day an' night, 

De cutes', sweetes'^ baddes' li'l sprig! 

An' hit 'uz jes' de same w'en she growed big. 

An' w'en she ma'ied den she tuck me, too ; 

She say, ''W'y, mammy, hit 'ud nuver do 

Fer me ter leave you, you my bestes' fren' !" 

She call me ''mammy" ter de ve'y en', 

Wid her las' bref, — yas, miss. Miss Jinny's daid. 

We bring her yer las' Chuseday, an' we laid 

Her down ter res' 'mongs' all her husband's kin, — 

Dat 'uz his sesso ; we-all want her in 

De ol', ol' fambly burryin'-groun' whar all 

Ow' folks' fo'parrents waits de Las' Day call. 

Dey went back Chuseday evenin', all her folks. 

Her husban' an' her maw an' all ; dey coax 

or mammy fer ter go back w'en dey gone. 

But I jes' cudden leave my chile alone. 



163 



MISS JINNY 

Hit 'z de fus' night sence she drord a bref 
Dat uver ow' Miss Jinny she bin lef ! 
An' so I sot down by her grave an' stayed. 
De dark crep' close all roun', but I wan' 'fraid. 
An' atter w'ile hit seem she knowed, somehow, 
An' presen'y I think I year her 'low, 
*'0 mammy, mammy, faithful ter de las' ! 
Yo' love hit reach eben yer beneaf de grass. 
But now de Everlastin' Arms dey press 
Me clost^ an' teck de place uv all de res'. 
Go back, go back, dear INIammy Angeline, 
Teck kyare er dat po' baby-chile er mine!" 
An' den I riz up, fer I seem ter see 
Dat 'uz de wu'k de Lawd cut out fer me ! — 
But dese ol' ban's dey long ter sarve her, too ! — 
My heart done hurried out dar long er you. 

Miss Jinny ! Miss Jinny ! 



164 



DE TUKKEY-TAIL FAN 

'Lias! is dat my tukkey-tail fan 

You gotten in yo' han'? 
Jes' putt hit right back on dat nail 

Above de water-pail, 

Whar you gotten hit f urn. 

Wen Tse erbout yo' size, Aunt Cindy Ann 

She gin me dat ol' fan ; 
Lawsee ! How I done strut all day, 

Dey cudden git hit 'way, 
I tucken hit inter baid. 

165 



DE TUKKEY-TAIL FAN 

Hit bin thu heaps a-wavin' in my han'. 

Dat ar ol' fedder fan. 
Wen yo' paw came a-co'tin' me 

I sot an' laughed ^Te-hee !" 
Behime dat same oV fan. 

At my maw's burryin' I hilt de fan 
Clincht tight up in my han', 

Reckon Fd fainted den an' dar 
But fer de good, cool air, 

I gotten f'um off dat fan. 

Wen I got 'ligion I whu'ld dat fan 

Victor ous in my han', 
A-shoutin' ''Glory !" wid all my might, 

Ontwel I mos' tuck flight 

On de wings er dat 'ar fan. 

Wen I got ma'ied, de good ol' fan 

Wuz trem'lin' in my han' ; 
I made dem 'spouses mighty low 

An' hid my blushin', so, 
Behime de tukkey fan. 



i66 



DE TUKKEY-TAIL FAN 

Wen you-all 'z sprinkit, I hilt de fan 
Right proud-lak in my han' ; 

'Ooman dat ter de Lawd kin show 
Twelve chillen in a row 

Has 'casion ter be proud. 

Wen y'all hurry me, I wan' dat fan 

Betwix' my folded han' ; 
Seem lak eben on Zion's Hill 

rd wan' dat ol' fan still, 

Ter beat time w'iles I sing — 

'Lias! Fo' de Lawd, is dat my fan 

Still in yo' sassy han' ? 
Jes' putt hit right back on dat nail 

Above de water-pail^ 

Whar you gotten hit f 'um ! 



167 



LI'L SISTAH 

Come on, come on, li'l sistah ! 

Teck holt my han' an' doan' you fear, 
Kain't nuttin' git you w'ile I'se near, 
I'll chunk big dogs dat bark an' bay 
An' chase de hookin'-cows erway, 
Li'l sistah, li'l sistah. 

Come on, come on, li'l sistah ! 

Dey's boogers yonner in de wood, 
But I'll teck kyare uv you right good, 
Dem jack-my-lantums an' dem hants 
Doan' fool wid boys dat wears long oants, 
Li'l sistah, li'l sistah. 



i68 




Teck hull iny haii' an doaii you fear 



LI L SISTAH 

Come on, come on, li'l sistah ! 

Fse bigger'n you, Tse mos' a man^ 
Got heap er strenk in dish yer han', 
Ef we shu'd meet dat Bully- Jim 
ril tu'n my fistes loose on him, 
Li'l sistah, li'l sistah. 

Come on, come on, li'l sistah ! 
You ac'in' lak a fraidy-calf 
Wid footses nailed plumB to de paff, 
I'll teck you safe right down de hill 
An' thu de swamp an' pas' de mill, 
Li'l sistah, li'l sistah. 

Come on, come on, li'l sistah ! 

Right soon we'll git ter Milly's home. 
An' den I'll tell her I done come 
'Kase mommer wanster borry — w'at? 
Oh, lawsy me! I'se done fergot, 
Li'l sistah, H'l sistah. 



171 



I 1905 



